


Still Him

by welkinwings



Series: Despite Everything [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghostbur, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Canon Compliant, ghostinnit, ghostinnit happy memories version, phantommy, tagging on mobile is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welkinwings/pseuds/welkinwings
Summary: Tommy renovates his house. Green top. Classic."Do you remember how you died?" asks Sapnap."I'm dead?" replies the ghost.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Despite Everything [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084598
Comments: 67
Kudos: 1095





	1. Grass

It's mid December, and Sapnap sees Tommy's house along the prime path looks completely different. What had become an open-air, granite mess surrounded by torn-up land is suddenly once again a vibrant, green hill with a doorway set into it.

Who would bother fixing up Tommy's house, Sapnap wonders, and decides to stick his nose inside to investigate. And maybe steal something.

Sapnap opens the door to find Tommy himself sorting his chests.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" Sapnap blurts out, materialising a sword in his hand.

Tommy straightens up from the chest. "I'm fixing my house, obviously," he turns around. "Why are you pointing a sword at me?" he adds, indignantly, innocently.

But the person in front of him has frozen in shock and horror, the sword trembling in his hand. 

Tommy scans him up and down. "Who the fuck are you," he states more than asks. 

This, apparently, is too much for whoever-this-is, who backs out the door and promptly books it, to the cheers of Tommy. Despite not knowing who he is, he gets a visceral joy from seeing the guy run in terror. "Yeah, run, bitch!" he shouts after him. 

Tommy smirks and then goes back to looking through his chest. He needs bonemeal to make the grass around here look really nice.

-

"Oh, you're back," Tommy sneers from the green top, bonemeal in hand.

Sapnap quickly takes off his armour. Tommy sits back. He may not know this person, but this feels especially strange: taking off armour is a peace sign, a let's-talk sign. It doesn't feel right.

Sapnap runs a hand through his hair. "Okay, the exile thing… clearly doesn't work now. So-"

"What exile thing?" Tommy asks, and oh. Sapnap winces and tries to move on.

"It- it doesn't matter, don't worry about it." He takes a deep breath. "Do… Do you remember how you died?"

The ghost is silent for a long time.

Eventually, it replies, "I'm dead?"

-

Tommy hops down from his roof and washes his hands of dirt and bonemeal in a nearby pond. Then he looks at them. Really looks at them.

Grey and translucent, and wavering slightly from the wetness. Just like Ghostbur. 

That guy has followed him, and is looking really concerned. 

"Listen," Tommy says. "I ain't much of an in-too-lectual, but I can do some deduction." He turns to look the guy in the eye. "I don't remember shit about you, except that I don't like you. And my memory must be like Ghostbur's now. So that means you were a complete dickhead to me."

He's not wrong, Sapnap thinks.

"Do you remember Dream?" he says instead, and Tommy's face seems to try to display the entire emotional spectrum at once. It would be hilarious.

"I remember we killed him, me and Tubbo," he says. "I won back my discs. Then L'Manberg fought him for independence. I traded my discs for it."

He thinks.

"I think we were friends, after that," he continues. "He was friends with Wilbur, and he visited me in… he visited me, and we… we had a bonding thing, where I'd give him my armour and he'd blow it up." He smiles. "He gave me a trident. One a' the flying ones. I don't have it on me though."

"You really remember all of that? And nothing about me?" Sapnap asks in disbelief. He doesn't know whether to be offended.

"Oi dickhead, I'd remember you if I could," Tommy replies, contemplative mood broken entirely. "I don't control this shit, man. I was happy when I beat Dream and I was happy when he was my friend. Shut up."

Sapnap can't help himself. "Aw, little Tommy happy he got a fwiend? Happy fweinds with dweam??"

"So that's why I don't remember you," says Tommy.

-

"Tubbo," Ranboo says. "What does your compass point to?"

Tubbo looks up from his paperwork. What had prompted the sudden question?

"Tommy," he replies, simply. 

Ranboo's eyes widen. "I see," he says.

Tubbo looks at the compass. It's battered and obvious where Ghostbur welded it back together. The "Your Tommy" tag is blurred from water and burnt from fire. And the pin… 

The pin is pointing in a completely different direction to normal. Tubbo would know, how often he checks it. Tommy has either walked a very long way around the edges of civilisation, or he's back.

The paperwork can wait.

-

The compass leads them to Ghostbur's house. A quick trip through the sewers - lucky that it's so clean - and Ghostbur comes to the doorway when they knock. 

"More visitors!" he echoes, delighted. He sees Tubbo's worried expression and immediately hands him a bit of grey-blue goop. "Have some blue, calm yourself, please," he says, and leads him inside. Tubbo just accepts it.

The blue in Tubbo's hand suddenly becomes a vibrant shade. He stares at Tommy sitting on Ghostbur's sofa. Grey. Translucent. 

Dead.

Surely not, he thinks, and the blue in his hand is practically fluorescent. Ghostbur rushes to hand him more but he can't hear him over the ringing in his head. I did this, he thinks.

The spectre makes eye contact with him and immediately smiles. "Tubbo!" he says, just like he always did. Happy just to see him. Tommy had stopped doing that in the days before his exile.

Tubbo takes out his battered compass. It points to the spectre. It really is him.

Tommy holds the compass hanging from a cord around his neck. Your Tubbo, the label says. It's in pristine condition, apart from being a ghost-object, like his clothes. It must have been destroyed when he died.

"You kept it," Tommy says, gesturing to Your Tommy. He sounds surprised.

"Of course I did," Tubbo replies. "It nearly blew up from a charged creeper, but Ghostbur fixed it for me."

"Of course," Tommy echoes. He looks confused. "Of course. Why wouldn't you keep it?"

Tubbo sits down. "Tommy, what do you remember?"

"Everyone keeps asking me that," he scowls. "Tommy do you remember this, Tommy do you remember that. I'm going to make a book and I'm going to throw it at them every time they ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is anonymous because the hyperfixation will fade, and that's okay, but I don't want this associated with my account. This may be taken down if the CCs say that they are uncomfortable with it.


	2. Book and Quill

It's convenient, then, that Ghostbur has a Thing for books.

"Can I keep it in my collection after you make it?" he asks excitedly, handing Tommy a blank book and a quill. 

"No, it's so that I can throw it at people," Tommy says, as if Ghost is silly for even suggesting that he might do anything else with such a book. Tubbo beside him lets out a small laugh that's nothing like how he knows it. Ghost is baffled, but his expression melts into vague acceptance as it always does. 

Tommy wants to do that as well, sometimes, but the idea of acting like that shakes something in his core and he is nothing if he's not defiant.

He opens the book. A blank canvas, an untouched landscape, and an empty page are scary all the same, but Tommy isn't a bitch and he's never been afraid of making something ugly. 

What do I remember clearest? The answer is easy.

Tubbo, he writes. The boy stiffens beside him, but doesn't say anything.

We sat on a bench. There was a jukebox. Music was playing. We talked and watched the sun set.

The phrasing is stilted and awkward, and the atmosphere in the room even more so. "I'm like - Shakespeare, ain'I?" he says, and it's still awkward but he's in familiar territory now so he forges onwards. "Romeo and Juliet ain't got nothing on this." 

It takes him about two seconds to realise the comparison he just made, which is one second longer than it takes for Ghostbur to start wheezing in a very un-Ghostburlike fashion. 

"No no no no wait no," he retracts, and now Tubbo is laughing again, full-voiced and familiar. "I mean it's like Macbeth. Is that the one with the ghosts? Or is that Ham- Ham- the ham one?" 

This does not help matters at all, but he's laughing with them too, now, and for just a moment they are not two ghosts and a president trying to hold together a crumbling country, but two brothers and a best friend talking nonsense without a care in the world.

-

Tommy does not try to be poetic or cute, like Wilbur and his stupid bread.

"The smell of bread? Really?" He teased, half joking and half genuinely incredulous. 

Ghostbur rolls his eyes. "It's about the sensation, Tommy," he says like he doesn't expect Tommy to understand. Tommy doesn't, but he isn't about to tell him that.

Tubbo messes around in a boat. Tubboat. He spins and sings. He is not very good at singing.

"Hey!" says Tubbo.

Wilbur makes a camper van out in the forest. We steal everyone's blaze rods.

"I remember that too," says Ghostbur.

Me and Ranboo burn down George's house. We got away with it.

Tubbo frowns at that one. "Well, I don't remember being punished for it," Tommy says. 

"You were," Tubbo replies, and Tommy scribbles out the last sentence. He doesn't ask how.

L'Manberg wins! We have independence. YOOO SUCK IT GREEN BOY. Dream has the discs. Wilbur is proud of me.

"I heard there was a special place," Tommy hums to himself. "Wait. Hey Ghost, why does Eret suck?" 

"Eret sucks!" Ghostbur says with a smile, almost reflexively. "I don't know why."

Tubbo sighs. "He betrayed us. He betrayed L'Manberg." He rubs his chest, feeling the phantom pain of being stabbed. "You lost a life for it. We all did."

Ghostbur goes quiet and still. Tommy does not. "Well fuck him then!" Tommy says, and writes an entry - less for the sake of telling others and more for the sake of reminding himself: Eret is a Bitch and betrayed L'Manberg and killed everyone. Yes.

"It was a long time ago, really," Tubbo adds on. "We're on much better terms with him now. He's going to be Fundy's adoptive dad." 

"Really?" says Tommy. "I'll still call him a bitch."

I have leverage over Dream. The leather of Spirit, his pet horse. I have a plan use it against him to try and trade for the discs, or something.

"I don't remember how that went," says Tommy, "So I haven't done it yet, or it went bad."

"It went bad," Tubbo confirms. Tommy grimaces.

He writes the memories as they come, petering out from significant moments and people into random nothings and nonsense flashes. The feel of sunlight. A pig man hands him a sword. Making and fixing pathways. Invitations to… something. He thinks he might get the sensation thing now. Ghosts don't feel much. He misses the taste of apple and the weight of armour and the heat of fire.

It's hard to grasp onto the bad things, the stressful emotions. He extrapolates from what he doesn't have as much as what he does. The election must have happened, because he remembers Wilbur coming up with the idea and planning it, but it and a big stretch of time afterwards is blank blank blank. He knows something went very, very wrong. Beforehand, Wilbur was Wilbur. Afterwards, he was Ghostbur.

The memories of the weeks before his death dance just out of his grasp, moments perhaps happy and yet becoming sad the moment he recalls. It's a mess and it makes his head hurt so he leaves it alone.

His quill trails. Above the clouds, is the last thing he wrote. No context.

Tubbo's gone pale. Tommy slams the book shut and says "Done! It's ready to be thrown. They will learn not to ask me, Tommy Innit, annoying questions." It's not very funny but that's not the point. Tubbo is distracted. "Let's go."

-

"I heard the news," Dream says, carefully, probingly. He might be eyeing Tommy up but the mask makes it hard to tell. A white canvas is scary. Dream's blank expression just so, tenfold. 

"Are you like Ghostbur, then? Forgetful?"

Tommy makes good on his word. The book makes a satisfying thunk against Dream's mask.

-

"It's weird that you still call him Ghost," says Tubbo.

"Why," replies Tommy.

Tubbo rubs the back of his neck. "Well, you're a ghost too. Why is he Ghostbur but you're not… Ghostmy?"

"Because that sounds dumb," he says. "I want to be Tommy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps there will be more, but I can't keep having fever dream writing sessions at three am. Thanks for reading!


	3. Echo

"Connor's house", the sign reads. What the fuck, thinks Tommy, I just fixed this place up. Apparently Connor hadn't gotten the memo yet. He replaces it, and then has a second thought.

Connor thinks that Tommy's house is his. Tommy is a ghost.

He's been itching to cause some chaos.

-

"Can't believe I have to steal invis pots from Wilbur," Tommy mutters to himself. "Ghosts are supposed to be able to do that anyway. Fuck's sake."

-

The door ominously slams shut behind Connor.

Which is weird, because the door was already shut. "Man, I gotta replace that door," says Connor. "Whoever redecorated around here didn't do a very good job."

Something crashes. Connor hears someone mutter "bitch" under their breath, which would be almost unnoticeable except for that it echoes really obviously.

"Okay, who's invisible?" he calls out, and then the torches go out.

And by the torches go out, he means that the invisible person puts them out one by one. With water. He can see the bucket.

"LEAVE THIS PLACE," says a voice that sounds like a teenager doing a terrible batman growl in a cathedral. Connor laughs.

"For fuck's sake," says Tommy normally, ghostly echo fading to a touch of reverb, and pulls out a sword.

That does the trick. "Okay okay!" says Connor, and he holds up his hands. "Are you Tommy? I thought you were, uh, evicted, so this house was free!"

"It's MY house," says Tommy. He brandishes the sword. "Get out."

"Please don't kill me!" Connor squeaks, and backs straight up to the door. "Uh… can you unlock it please?"

Tommy walks closer and sees Connor sweat as the disembodied sword approaches. He smirks and unlocks the door.

"Okay thanks bye!" Connor says. Tommy thinks about chasing him, but he feels merciful today. Or maybe just tired.

-

"Echo," says Tommy. It does not echo. He frowns. "Echo," he tries again, and this time, echo echo echo rings back at him.

So he can't fly or anything, but being dead has given him the fantastic supernatural ability to make his voice all echoey and shit. Great. 

He concentrates for a second. "Bitch," he tells the air, and the air says back bitchbitchbitchbitchbitch. He snorts.

-

He tiptoes into Tubbo's office. He's not generally a stealthy person, but it's easy to step lightly when you don't actually weigh anything. He turns his echo up as far as he can and shouts, "TUBBO!"

Tubbo shrieks and tries to jump, but falls out of his chair. Ink spills all over the paper he was writing on. He groans. That's going to take forever to redo. "Tommyyyy…"

When Tommy stops laughing, he sees the ruined paperwork. "Ah, oops," he mutters, which is roughly equivalent to Tubbo saying 'Oh god, I'm so fucking sorry.'

He actually goes to fetch a cloth to help clean up the ink puddle, so Tubbo knows he translated right.

… Is it still echoing? Tubbo, tubbo, whispers his office distantly. That better go away soon, he thinks, it's starting to get creepy.

-

Philza looks out of his window and sees Ghostbur, Tommy, and a blue sheep in the street. Ghostbur waves at him.

The sky is darkening and drops are starting to patter on the ground. "Come in, come in!" he says. "Before the rain melts ya." 

"Thanks, big man," Tommy says as he walks in.

"Hi Philza!" Ghostbur greets, unconcerned. "Look!" 

Phil suddenly has a face full of blue sheep. "Oh," he says, laughing, "Hello."

"I called him friend," Ghostbur explains, holding up the sheep's collar.

"Friend?" Phil asks, and laughs. 

Ghostbur is about to reply when Tommy interrupts with, "Why do you have a compass labelled Technoblade?"

"Tommy!" Phil says. "Get out of my stuff." He turns around and abruptly realises that Tommy is grey.

A moment passes.

"That," Philza starts, "explains why you're back from exile." Tommy looks uncomfortable and a little confused, so Philza has to ask. "Wait, do you remem-"

Bonk. Tommy hits him round the head with a book, and then hands it to Phil while he straightens his hat. "Ow," says Phil belatedly.

-

"I'm gonna touch it," says Ghostbur.

"No, don't-" "Yeah, do it!" Phil and Tommy talk over each other.

"I'm gonna touch it," Ghostbur repeats, and sticks a finger out of the window into the rain. There's a little psst and it goes translucent and hazy.

"Stop it, you'll melt," says Philza.

Tommy sticks his whole left hand out and watches in fascination as it washes away like paint in a sink, with a hssssss. It doesn't hurt. Ghostbur giggles. 

"Now you're not gonna be able to use that hand for hours," says Phil. Tommy stares at the 'stump' where his arm fades away like an unfinished watercolour painting.

"What would happen if I went out completely?" asks Tommy. 

"Oh, I did that," says Ghostbur. "Dream sent me on an adventure in the snow, and it snowed so much that I completely melted! I couldn't move because my legs were," he makes a wibbling motion with his hands, "y'know, and I just kind of got stuck for a few days. It was really boring actually. Lucky that I gave him the invitations, right?"

"What were the invitations about, anyway," asks Tommy.

"For your beach party!" Ghostbur exclaims with a smile. "I'm really sorry I got stuck and missed it, by the way. I hope you had fun anyway."

"I don't know," Tommy says, but the fact that he doesn't know is sign enough.

-

Tommy catches sight of the compass labelled 'Technoblade' again, and picks it up. "You didn't answer my question, Phil." 

Phil sees where Tommy is looking, and sighs. "Techno gave it to me so that I could find his house after he retired," he explains. "I don't really need it anymore, so I left it lying around. I should probably burn it."

"Why," Tommy asks.

"Because," Philza starts, not knowing exactly how much Tommy knows, "Techno… did some things which made people very angry, and they would like to, well, kill him probably." 

"What did he do?"

Philza takes a deep breath. "Techno struggles with… he struggles not to be violent. He's retired. A pacifist now." 

The thing that Phil's really worried about isn't that Techno will be killed. Techno can defend himself perfectly well. His physical health, at least, is assured. His mental health is what Phil worries about.

"Yes, but what did he do?" Tommy's getting frustrated.

Phil slumps. "He's killed a lot of people. He summoned withers in L'Manberg. Right here, he summoned them. He tried to kill you. And…" He has to say it. He has to. "He took one of Tubbo's lives."

Tommy sits, processing. Then he grabs his book. "I don't want to forget," he offers unprompted by way of embarrassed explanation. Phil lets him think.

-

'phil', Ghostbur messages Phil, 'there are a lot of people outside and i showed them friend! they are all wearing aprons and they are looking for techno. they think friend is very good :D'

"Fuck," says Phil. Tommy, still writing, has the compass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in spare moments over the course of a day, rather than all at once at midnight. At least one more chapter to come to finish this plot line, but I'm winging it, so who knows. Hope you enjoyed.


	4. Compass

Knock knock. "Mr Philza?" Tubbo calls. "Can we come in?"

"Now's not a good time, Tubbo," Phil replies. He makes a frantic gesture at Tommy, who looks confused and tries to hand him his book. Phil shakes his head.

There's heated muttering from the door for a moment before Quackity's voice pipes up. "This is official L'Manberg business, Philza, open up! That's an order from your president!"

"Give me the compass," hisses Phil. Tommy has just enough time to say "What-" before there's a crash. Phil's door comes right off its hinges and disappears into someone's inventory.

"Hi Phil!" Ghostbur practically prances past the group wearing aprons artfully splattered with red, tugging along Friend.

Philza and the Butcher Army stare each other down. Tommy perks up. "Hey Tubbo!"

"Uh, hi Tommy," he replies awkwardly.

"Come in, come in," says Philza, who knows when he's defeated.

"What the fuck are you all wearing?" asks Tommy. "You look ridiculous."

Tubbo and Fundy share a look at each other. "We've been, uh, cooking," Fundy claims.

"You've been cooking," Philza deadpans. "What have you been cooking?"

"Uhhh, sweet potatoes?" says Fundy.

"Didn't know they were that shade of red," Philza says, deliberately casual.

Quackity flicks his diamond axe. "Let's cut the crap," he says. "Techno is wanted for crimes against L'Manberg: summoning withers, mass murder, and terrorism. You know where he is."

He looks to Tubbo, who stays silent. "Your president orders you to tell us where Techno is," he says.

Didn't sound like it, Tommy thinks. What is Tubbo doing?

Philza stares down Quackity. "No."

"No?" Quackity says, warning in his voice. "Philza, he killed so many people!"

"He summoned withers! Right here, where this house is!" says Tubbo.

"As a citizen of L'Manberg," Quackity says, "You should do what your president says."

"No," says Philza simply. "I'm not going to tell you where Techno is."

But I could, thinks Tommy, and he almost hands over the compass right then. But he hesitates before he takes it out of his inventory.

"Have you no loyalty to L'Manberg?!" Fundy cries. "You, you-"

Philza straightens up. "I-" he begins, voice raised, but stops and glances at Tommy. He wants to defend his honour, so badly, he wants to tell them to fuck off and that L'Manberg is nothing in the face of his family, but right now what he needs to do is convince Tommy not to hand over that compass, and Tommy is loyal to L'Manberg. So he goes a different route.

"Techno," he says, "Is my only family left who isn't - isn't -" he gestures to Tommy and Wilbur, grey and silent both. Wilbur by now has retreated into a corner with Friend, blue spilling from his fingers like indigo tears, shoulders shaking, unable to face them. Tommy is just staring intensely.

Tubbo looks incredibly guilty.

"He's retired," Phil implores. "A pacifist now. He's healing. Please," he says, "let him try to be a better person." He's facing Quackity, but Tommy knows that Phil's talking to him. And the words resonate. 

I'll do better, a distant echo of his own voice says. Please give me another chance.

Tommy looks to Tubbo. If he had been strong, confident, assured, Tommy wouldn't have even hesitated. But Tubbo isn't the one asking. It's Quackity. And Tubbo looks confused and scared and guilty, even as he grips a diamond axe.

Tommy makes his decision then. He's not going to hand it over.

"He has to pay for his crimes, Philza," says Quackity, words a diamond edge. "Let's search his house. Maybe we'll find a clue."

As they scatter to ransack his house, Tommy's eyes meet Philza's. He nods. Philza's eyes shine with relief even as they shatter his windows and clip a monitor around his ankle.

-

"What's up with Quackity?" Tommy asks with no preamble, walking into Tubbo's office. Tubbo sighs and puts down the quill.

"We have a hitlist," Tubbo says, the words sounding strange even to his own ears. "A L'Manberg hitlist. Quackity made it. He said if L'Manberg is to survive, we can't have these people running around and destabilising it."

"Do you agree?" Tommy asks.

Tubbo groans. "No, not really," he says. "But he and Fundy were already - after I already exiled you, how was I supposed to say no?"

"You must have exiled your backbone as well," Tommy says. "You're the fucking president! What's even the point of that if they're the ones doing all the, the," he waves his hands, "the decisions?"

"I really am a yes man," Tubbo says, as if just realising. "I couldn't say no to Wilbur, I couldn't say no to Dream, and now I can't even say no to Quackity when I outrank him!"

He buries his face in his hands. "You DIED because I couldn't say fucking no!"

"No," says Tommy. "That's not right."

"You don't even remember," accuses Tubbo.

Tommy looks away. "I could, if I really wanted to. Ghostbur never said to anyone, but I know he could, too. It's not easy, but…"

Tubbo looks shocked.

"Where was I exiled to?" asks Tommy. "Let's go there."

-

Tommy feels sick the moment they enter the Nether. He takes one look at the lava ocean far below and has to stumble back, sitting down against the L'Manberg portal frame.

"Are you okay?" asks Tubbo.

"No," says Tommy, and gets up anyway. "I can't let this scare me, Tubbo," he explains. "I gotta, I gotta conquer my fear."

Tubbo looks worried but nods anyway. "Okay."

They cross the bridge, a mix of sturdy cobble and obsidian and rickety, one-wide oak log. "I remember making this," says Tommy, touching cobble. "I was looking forward to people visiting. I remember this, too," he gestures to the log. 

"What's up with that?" asks Tubbo.

"I guess I figured… if no one wanted to see me anyway, I'd make it harder to visit?" he asks more than says. "I was angry. I was taking back control. It made sense at the time."

Tubbo shakes his head. "I still don't get it."

"Me neither," says Tommy. 

-

"Wait here a second, I need to do something." Tommy leaves Tubbo by the Logstedshire portal and disappears down a different path. 

Tubbo waits, and waits, and waits. After a couple of minutes of silence, he hears Tommy scream wordlessly. It's not a scream of terror. It's angrier and almost guttural. "FUCK YOUUU," Tommy shouts. "I'M STILL HERE!"

Tubbo isn't sure who, exactly, he's talking to.

-

They step through the portal to find Logstedshire - or, what remains of it.

A huge crater lies where there used to be a little camp. Some of the stripped log walls are still standing, although skewed and broken by the explosions. 

"What happened?" asks Tubbo.

"I had a stash," Tommy says. "I was so happy to have something, something that Dream wouldn't touch. I -" he looks away. "Well, I can guess. Dream found it. He blew everything up in retaliation."

I know you won't do it, Dream says. They both know what he's talking about.

Tubbo is frozen, staring at the tower.

"One last act of defiance," Tommy tries to explain.

"No," whispers Tubbo, "no, I thought it was an accident. That you might have tripped in the Nether, or been cornered by mobs. Not this. Surely not this."

"Tubbo, it's not your fault," Tommy says. "I gave in to Dream. I - I chose this."

"But you never would have if I hadn't exiled you!" says Tubbo, tears starting to leak. "I- you-"

"No," says Tommy, eyes glittering. "I understood by the end. You had to. Dream would have - he would have destroyed L'Manberg. What am I next to an entire country?"

"Everything," Tubbo says.

"O-oh," is all Tommy has to say to that, but Tubbo could swear a touch of blue returned to his grey eyes.

"That's not - the point I'm trying to make is…" Tommy says, "You couldn't have known. How Dream would treat me. Well, you could have visited, but…"

"Dream told me you didn't want to see me," Tubbo says, and Tommy nods like he expected it.

"He was the one that destroyed the invitations, too," he says. "How could I have not seen it before? I - gah, I'm such an idiot! I can't believe I thought he was my friend."

"I thought he was alright once we made the peace treaty too. He was the only one there for you," Tubbo says. "You're very… you're a people person, Tommy."

Tommy shakes his head. "No. I'm not clingy. You're clingy."

"Come on, man," says Tubbo. "You so are."

"Shut the fuck up," says Tommy, and hugs him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This seems like a good place to leave it, but I might write more anyway. Thank you for reading!


End file.
